More Alexa concept art, and happy news from Drive Thru Fiction!

To whip or not to whip it?
More Alexa art from Tobias! He suggested this lovely whip concept for Alexa, as opposed to just arm blades.

I love it! Its deadly, versatile, and likely prehensile as well.

But its not going on Alexa.

Did I just really say I hate it? Au contrare! Or however you spell that.

I thinks its the perfect weapon: for Phear. Our Cassandra, our well off woman with a disaffected girlfriend and a disdain for vaporized nicotine delivery systems, who helps Alexa immensely in this story and this series.

Lets just say the choice of the whip for her weapon will become quite obvious in the novels and short stories to come. One hint: Killian.

That being said, I love the colors and the wiredness of the weapons style, and I hope you do too. If you thinks its all too much, say so! I might ignore you, but you still have a right to complain!

Next round of art I'm aiming for is a full complement of parastic body armor, which she wears for the job that you can't finish at a quarter to 5. She'll need every inch of chitin to survive the breachers and other beasts to come.

Drive Thru Fiction is doing well! 

"Where Was I?" is getting out there to people! To those people, I must thank you and I STRONGLY encourage you to share the DRM-free copies of that story to everyone you can. Don't even ask, just email it to them, and tell them to upload it to Google Play books or download Bookviser or Freeda books or any Epub reader they can find. I mean, don't spam your grandma if she's not into young people getting booted out of the city because they don't have the freaking right letter tattooed to their foreheads, but you know what I mean.

If you have no clue what I'm talking about, go here and buy my beautiful story for whatever you want, even free, and upload that EPUB file directly to your Google Play Books account. You'll be able to read all about it. There will be a link to my Patreon in there as well, so you can get excerpts way ahead of time and other goodies.

Thanks for your support, my people!



Hello all my loyal blog readers!

I need some help. I just got this lovely concept art in by the artist +Tobias White, and I need your opinions. These images are depicting Alexa from the recent stories of the same name (the ones with Cantos in them). They were mostly drawn to figure out how I want the Armorcytes drawn, so don't worry about judging the figure. Which design for the Armorcytes do you like best?

Can't wait to here your opinion! A number would suffice if you don't have much time.


EXCERPT (RAW) New Story! "Murderess flaunts justice, demands desert"

So not my art. Think its concept art for God of War III

Here's another story I just finished the draft on. This one is probably going to a magazine, but I'll post some excerpts on here at Patreon and link to the magazine that buys it. ENJOY! 
"Murderess flaunts justice; demands desert"
by Adrian Delgado
Copyright 2016
I asked around, but not too hard. They haven't heard tell of her death yet. I refused to Junar it: that old search ghost would certainly tell me.
Zatia had come, chained with nearly 50 pounds of links and gaurded by four soliders, to the harbor. Even her star sailer, the Degueo, was oversized for its cargo: a 50 gunner with 12 wings, something a real admiral would be given.
"Death by combat for Zatia; seats sold out in seconds" was my headline. They pared it down to the first clause, of course, but I am a bit verbose. Johnel assigned me to cover the sotry, and to have R'bad send live commentary to our cairn's crier, so that the subscribers could get a running commentary of the carnage on their tablets. The air was thick with information spirits running about delivering snippets, replies, unexpurgated opinions on the quality of the fried potatoes the stadium vendors were touting as vittles from the gods, and a whole sea of mental debris otherwise.
All that was 6, no 7 days ago, Berto. 7. I know, no execution has lasted this long since J'dalo's eight days, before you and I were even thought of.
On the first day, I didn't get to interview her. I wasn't told to, either, but I wanted to.
I mean, she is the first Nagal to be executed in five years, after the ruling class had been letting their blood and chaining them to work camps for 150 years going back. Fuck, I'm so worried I'm rambling.
Let me start where it matters.
Yes, I'm breaking this into sections. So you can read it easier. Its only 3k or so. There is no tl;dr.
Please read the whole thing, Berto. I mean it.

Never will something so glorious shake me as much as Zatia did.
Surrounding her were the Empresses women, bonafide First Phalanx, spears like the spokes of a bicycle and pointed inward at the burnt umber neck of their prisoner.
Berto, their eyes, the eyes of the phalanx were so strange.
They had an expressio of aggression, pride and disgust, as some Var still do when they see skin as dark as hers, but there was too much of it. The contempt was covering something up.
Fear. They were afraid.
Afraid of a woman wearing little more than chains and a few dirty rags. I thought they must have stripped her to embarrass her, but I found out from one of the ship crew that's the way they found her.
"Mind you," the grey bearded Sailor Sven said, puffing a pipe absently "She was a might cleaner. You didn't hear it from me, but I saw the soldiers take her out back, all 12 of 'em, to the warehouse yard to 'tenderize' her, y'know."
But he said only 10 soldiers came back. The soliders were expeditionary force mind you, but the sailor swore that there wasn't a solider that didn't have some lick. The lady was injured too, though her wounds were minor compared to what she gave the unit.
All I know is, the soldiers would not have fought Zatia one-on-one.
As she passed by, I could see a bruise rolling with her skin, her muscles hard and undulating under the slight dark spot. She was essentially in a cropt top and some thong (yes Berto, and thong), and a cut glistened with fresh blood on her belly. I was suprised that the soliders hadn't killed her, if nto by accident.
Then, I looked up, and saw black eyes examining me and an ivory smile suddenly flash like a knife.
My heart stopped, and some part of me knew I was going to die.
Zatia, the murderer, suddenly was pointing at me, and said in a sweet note. "Bring her to my dinner tonight. I want to eat her."
The phalanx barked for Zatia to move forward, their teeth clenched behind their helmets, they wanted any excuse to run her through, but they dared not. The empress wanted a public execution, and she always gets what she wants.
But Zatia kept her eyes locked to mind as she strode forward to the phaeton that would spirit her to the dome, where thousands were already filing in. In an hour, Zatia would be standing in the arena, and a rift to Nightmare or Strife or some other concept realm, would crackle the air and open, disgorging some novel freak into the coliseum, controlled by a piper. In a minute or less, the naked woman would die, perhaps bravely, but certainly hideously.
Of course, as you know, I was wrong.
You saw the fight, but I understand that her Majesty's cabinent had the information spirits shut down the feed soon after she lanced the Tyrannosaur. It went down in a heap, Zatia's streaking spear somehow finding the heart or somethign vital in the beast's vast chest. It might have had time to kill her anyway, had Zatia not climbed its leg and stood on its neck, shrieking hoarsely in victory.
She was a fool, Berto. So foolish that she stirred up a crowd of thousands of Imperials, of all races and genders and creeds, even her own, who paid good money to see her die.
I know why they cut the feed. They were chanting her name.

That night, while writing my article, R'bad said to me, in its distant voice. "My Gods, people are crazy over this. Everyone's socials are bursting with this crap."
"You think it's crap?" I asked R'bad. Of course it would, grouch.
"People flock for miles to pay to see someone cut in half. Half the people on the wire are saying she cheated, like they were disapointted that she is still whole! To be honest though, I'd think she'd have something up her sleeves too, if she had any."
I was going to comment, but a knock at the door cut the convo short.
I cracked the door open and saw Johnel. Yes, he came himself.
"You're not writing anything yet, are you?"
"Of course, why..." I stopped when I locked eyes with a Phalanx, glaring at me from behind Johnel.
"Grab your fetish" he said, quivering.
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